


(Strange Magic Secret Santa fic #2)

by jupiter23



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5896612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiter23/pseuds/jupiter23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a prompt. It's late at night, and someone finds themselves carrying someone else to bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Strange Magic Secret Santa fic #2)

**Author's Note:**

> For jaegereska on Tumblr.

Marianne scrubbed at an eye with the heel of her hand and had to clamp down on the urge to fling her quill across the desk. Paperwork was a boring chore at the best time, if it could be said that there was ever a best time for it. This late at night, however, turned it into a form of cruel and unusual torture that only got worse the longer she sat here.

Opting instead to lay the quill down calmly, she yawned and stretched. That’s it, it was time for bed. She’d probably have to make Bog go, too. Knowing him, he’d want to stay a while longer to finish whatever he had been working on. But then the lack of sleep would also make him cranky, and she just wasn’t in the mood to deal with that.

“Hey, Bog?” she said, standing up, but then she looked over at his desk. Really looked.

Now this just wasn’t fair.

Bog was slumped over on his desk, his head resting on his folded arms. He was sound asleep.

“Oh, no you didn’t,” Marianne growled quietly. She rounded her desk, crossed over to his, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on Bog, bed time,” she said, giving his shoulder a gentle shake. He didn’t move.

Marianne made an exasperated sound and shook him harder. “Bog? Come on, let’s go!”

This time his answer was to give a nearly inaudible growl and turn his head the other way.

Marianne glared down at him and folded her arms across her chest. “I should just leave you here,” she grumbled at him. “It would serve you right for falling asleep on me.” Bog offered no retort.

But they both knew she wouldn’t actually do that. So what to do, then? Marianne chewed on her lip and glanced over her shoulder at the door. It was late at night, so the chances of getting someone to help her get her sleeping husband up to their bedchambers were slim. Besides, she didn’t think she had the patience to go very far to find someone, anyway.

Then she looked back at Bog. It seemed there was no help for it, then. Marianne rounded the desk and gently coaxed one of Bog’s arms loose, then put her back to him and pulled the arm over her shoulder. Then she hooked her other arm under his knee, and it took every bit of energy she had left to not fall over when she stood up, Bog’s still-sleeping form across her shoulders.

And damn was he heavy! Marianne cursed under her breath as she made her way across the room to the door and pulled it open. Once she was in the hallway, she started hoping that the distance to their bedchamber wasn’t as long as she thought. She also started hoping that a patrolling goblin or two would come across them, if for no other reason than to see what was happening and not let Bog live it down later. She could have hoped that he would wake up before they got there so that he’d walk back of his own accord, but she somehow didn’t think he was going to wake up.

But then she remembered the two staircases she would have to climb on the way and started cursing under her breath all over again. Trying to fly wasn’t an option. She wouldn’t get far with the added weight, and she wasn’t looking forward to trying to pull herself out from under him if and when they did crash.

Marianne snarled and cursed the entire way up the first set of stairs, and still Bog didn’t wake up. She actually found herself getting impressed by this, and then considered that she must be _really_ tired to start finding this in any way enjoyable. In that case, maybe she’d pass out herself and consign the both of them to sleeping in the middle of a corridor that night. There was still another flight of stairs to go. And again, it would serve him right for falling asleep at his desk.

Then she was at the staircase. No, maybe she’d pass out on the stairs. But then they’d both fall, and any potentially broken bones would be her fault, and she just couldn’t have that. Marianne made her way up the stairs with her cursing and snarling increasing in volume, and _still_ Bog didn’t wake up.

Now she was in the last hallway and their bedchamber wasn’t far away. She was starting to entertain the notion that someone slipped something into his food at dinner. It wasn’t normal for him to sleep so heavily. But if that had happened, he would have gone to sleep much sooner than he did, the last bit of rationality in her brain suggested. So he was just really tired, then. She couldn’t blame him, they _had_ had a long day.

And then finally, _finally_ , she was pushing the door to their bedchamber open. Marianne sighed in relief as she finally laid Bog on the bed as gently as she could and pulled the covers over him. Her knees were ready to give out and if she was tired before, she felt dead on her feet now. Once she had Bog settled (he still didn’t wake up) she crossed the room to shut the door and then to dress for bed, massaging at her now sore shoulders.

Once she was in her nightgown, she put out the few lamps that were lit in the room and crawled into bed. She didn’t bother doing it quietly, either.

Marianne was very nearly into a deep sleep of her own when there was a sudden tugging at her wing, which jolted her awake. She looked over in the direction her wing was being pulled in and…..

………was Bog seriously using her wing as a blanket?!

Marianne groaned in annoyance and buried her face in her pillow. She was too tired for this fight. Fine, Bog could cover himself with her wing all he wanted, she was going to sleep. Her last thought was that she was certainly making sure Bog knew all about this come morning.

 

Sunlight was streaming in through the window when Bog awoke the next morning. It took him a full minute before he realized he was in his bed. Then he realized he had no memory of how he got there. And was this Marianne’s wing covering him? He glanced over at her, but she was dead to the world. He somehow had the feeling that he’d better just let her sleep.


End file.
